L. Frank Baum_Oz 12 (4 page)

"I'm 'fraid so, your Majesty. Of course, they may not be dangerous, but
we mustn't take chances. Enough accidents happen to us poor Loons as it
is, and my advice is to condemn and perforate 'em as quickly as
possible."

"Keep your advice to yourself," said the monarch, in a peeved tone.
"Who's King here, anyhow? You or Me?"

"We made you our King because you have less common sense than the rest
of us," answered Panta Loon, indignantly. "I could have been King
myself, had I wanted to, but I didn't care for the hard work and
responsibility."

As he said this, the big Loon strutted back and forth in the space
between the throne of King Bal and the prisoners, and the other Loons
seemed much impressed by his defiance. But suddenly there came a sharp
report and Panta Loon instantly disappeared, to the great astonishment
of the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and Woot the Wanderer, who saw on the
spot where the big fellow had stood a little heap of flabby, wrinkled
skin that looked like a collapsed rubber balloon.

"There!" exclaimed the King; "I expected that would happen. The
conceited rascal wanted to puff himself up until he was bigger than the
rest of you, and this is the result of his folly. Get the pump working,
some of you, and blow him up again."

"We will have to mend the puncture first, your Majesty," suggested one
of the Loons, and the prisoners noticed that none of them seemed
surprised or shocked at the sad accident to Panta.

"All right," grumbled the King. "Fetch Til to mend him."

One or two ran away and presently returned, followed by a lady Loon
wearing huge, puffed-up rubber skirts. Also she had a purple feather
fastened to a wart on the top of her head, and around her waist was a
sash of fibre-like vines, dried and tough, that looked like strings.

"Get to work, Til," commanded King Bal. "Panta has just exploded."

The lady Loon picked up the bunch of skin and examined it carefully
until she discovered a hole in one foot. Then she pulled a strand of
string from her sash, and drawing the edges of the hole together, she
tied them fast with the string, thus making one of those curious warts
which the strangers had noticed on so many Loons. Having done this, Til
Loon tossed the bit of skin to the other Loons and was about to go away
when she noticed the prisoners and stopped to inspect them.

"Dear me!" said Til; "what dreadful creatures. Where did they come
from?"

"We captured them," replied one of the Loons.

"And what are we going to do with them?" inquired the girl Loon.

"Perhaps we'll condemn 'em and puncture 'em," answered the King.

"Well," said she, still eyeing the "I'm not sure they'll puncture.
Let's try it, and see."

One of the Loons ran to the forest's edge and quickly returned with a
long, sharp thorn. He glanced at the King, who nodded his head in
assent, and then he rushed forward and stuck the thorn into the leg of
the Scarecrow. The Scarecrow merely smiled and said nothing, for the
thorn didn't hurt him at all.

Then the Loon tried to prick the Tin Woodman's leg, but the tin only
blunted the point of the thorn.

"Just as I thought," said Til, blinking her purple eyes and shaking her
puffy head; but just then the Loon stuck the thorn into the leg of Woot
the Wanderer, and while it had been blunted somewhat, it was still
sharp enough to hurt.

"Ouch!" yelled Woot, and kicked out his leg with so much energy that
the frail bonds that tied him burst apart. His foot caught the
Loon—who was leaning over him—full on his puffy stomach, and sent him
shooting up into the air. When he was high over their heads he exploded
with a loud "pop" and his skin fell to the ground.

"I really believe," said the King, rolling his spotlike eyes in a
frightened way, "that Panta was right in claiming these prisoners are
dangerous. Is the pump ready?"

Some of the Loons had wheeled a big machine in front of the throne and
now took Panta's skin and began to pump air into it. Slowly it swelled
out until the King cried "Stop!"

"No, no!" yelled Panta, "I'm not big enough yet."

"You're as big as you're going to be," declared the King. "Before you
exploded you were bigger than the rest of us, and that caused you to
be proud and overbearing. Now you're a little smaller than the rest,
and you will last longer and be more humble."

"Pump me up—pump me up!" wailed Panta "If you don't you'll break my
heart."

"If we do we'll break your skin," replied the King.

So the Loons stopped pumping air into Panta, and pushed him away from
the pump. He was certainly more humble than before his accident, for he
crept into the background and said nothing more.

"Now pump up the other one," ordered the King. Til had already mended
him, and the Loons set to work to pump him full of air.

During these last few moments none had paid much attention to the
prisoners, so Woot, finding his legs free, crept over to the Tin
Woodman and rubbed the bonds that were still around his arms and body
against the sharp edge of the axe, which quickly cut them.

The boy was now free, and the thorn which the Loon had stuck into his
leg was lying unnoticed on the ground, where the creature had dropped
it when he exploded. Woot leaned forward and picked up the thorn, and
while the Loons were busy watching the pump, the boy sprang to his feet
and suddenly rushed upon the group.

"Pop"—"pop"—"pop!" went three of the Loons, when the Wanderer pricked
them with his thorn, and at the sounds the others looked around and saw
their danger. With yells of fear they bounded away in all directions,
scattering about the clearing, with Woot the Wanderer in full chase.
While they could run much faster than the boy, they often stumbled and
fell, or got in one another's way, so he managed to catch several and
prick them with his thorn.

It astonished him to see how easily the Loons exploded. When the air
was let out of them they were quite helpless. Til Loon was one of those
who ran against his thorn and many others suffered the same fate. The
creatures could not escape from the enclosure, but in their fright many
bounded upward and caught branches of the trees, and then climbed out
of reach of the dreaded thorn.

Woot was getting pretty tired chasing them, so he stopped and came
over, panting, to where his friends were sitting, still bound.

"Very well done, my Wanderer," said the Tin Woodman. "It is evident
that we need fear these puffed-up creatures no longer, so be kind
enough to unfasten our bonds and we will proceed upon our journey."

Woot untied the bonds of the Scarecrow and helped him to his feet. Then
he freed the Tin Woodman, who got up without help. Looking around them,
they saw that the only Loon now remaining within reach was Bal Loon,
the King, who had remained seated in his throne, watching the
punishment of his people with a bewildered look in his purple eyes.

"Shall I puncture the King?" the boy asked his companions.

King Bal must have overheard the question, for he fumbled with the cord
that fastened him to the throne and managed to release it. Then he
floated upward until he reached the leafy dome, and parting the
branches he disappeared from sight. But the string that was tied to his
body was still connected with the arm of the throne, and they knew they
could pull his Majesty down again, if they wanted to.

"Let him alone," suggested the Scarecrow. "He seems a good enough king
for his peculiar people, and after we are gone, the Loons will have
something of a job to pump up all those whom Woot has punctured."

"Every one of them ought to be exploded," declared Woot, who was angry
because his leg still hurt him.

"No," said the Tin Woodman, "that would not be just fair. They were
quite right to capture us, because we had no business to intrude here,
having been warned to keep away from Loonville. This is their country,
not ours, and since the poor things can't get out of the clearing, they
can harm no one save those who venture here out of curiosity, as we
did."

"Well said, my friend," agreed tile Scarecrow. "We really had no right
to disturb their peace and comfort; so let us go away."

They easily found the place where they had forced their way into the
enclosure, so the Tin Woodman pushed aside the underbrush and started
first along the path. The Scarecrow followed next and last came Woot,
who looked back and saw that the Loons were still clinging to their
perches on the trees and watching their former captives with frightened
eyes.

"I guess they're glad to see the last of us," remarked the boy, and
laughing at the happy ending of the adventure, he followed his comrades
along the path.

When they had reached the end of the path, where they had first seen
the warning sign, they set off across the country in an easterly
direction. Before long they reached Rolling Lands, which were a
succession of hills and valleys where constant climbs and descents were
required, and their journey now became tedious, because on climbing
each hill, they found before them nothing in the valley below it except
grass, or weeds or stones.

Up and down they went for hours, with nothing to relieve the monotony
of the landscape, until finally, when they had topped a higher hill
than usual, they discovered a cup-shaped valley before them in the
center of which stood an enormous castle, built of purple stone. The
castle was high and broad and long, but had no turrets and towers. So
far as they could see, there was but one small window and one big door
on each side of the great building.

"This is strange!" mused the Scarecrow. "I'd no idea such a big castle
existed in this Gillikin Country. I wonder who lives here?"

"It seems to me, from this distance," remarked the Tin Woodman, "that
it's the biggest castle I ever saw. It is really too big for any use,
and no one could open or shut those big doors without a stepladder."

"Perhaps, if we go nearer, we shall find out whether anybody lives
there or not," suggested Woot. "Looks to me as if nobody lived there."

On they went, and when they reached the center of the valley, where the
great stone castle stood, it was beginning to grow dark. So they
hesitated as to what to do.

"If friendly people happen to live here," said Woot. "I shall be glad
of a bed; but should enemies occupy the place, I prefer to sleep upon
the ground."

"And if no one at all lives here," added the Scarecrow, "we can enter,
and take possession, and make ourselves at home."

While speaking he went nearer to one of the great doors, which was
three times as high and broad as any he had ever seen in a house
before, and then he discovered, engraved in big letters upon a stone
over the doorway, the words:

"YOOP CASTLE"

"Oho!" he exclaimed; "I know the place now. This was probably the home
of Mr. Yoop, a terrible giant whom I have seen confined in a cage, a
long way from here. Therefore this castle is likely to be empty and we
may use it in any way we please."

"Yes, yes," said the Tin Emperor, nodding; "I also remember Mr. Yoop.
But how are we to get into his deserted castle? The latch of the door
is so far above our heads that none of us can reach it."

They considered this problem for a while, and then Woot said to the Tin
Man:

"If I stand upon your shoulders, I think I can unlatch the door."

"Climb up, then," was the reply, and when the boy was perched upon the
tin shoulders of Nick Chopper, he was just able to reach the latch and
raise it.

At once the door swung open, its great hinges making a groaning sound
as if in protest, so Woot leaped down and followed his companions into
a big, bare hallway. Scarcely were the three inside, however, when they
heard the door slam shut behind them, and this astonished them because
no one had touched it. It had closed of its own accord, as if by magic.
Moreover, the latch was on the outside, and the thought occurred to
each one of them that they were now prisoners in this unknown castle.

"However," mumbled the Scarecrow, "we are not to blame for what cannot
be helped; so let us push bravely ahead and see what may be seen."

It was quite dark in the hallway, now that the outside door was shut,
so as they stumbled along a stone passage they kept close together, not
knowing what danger was likely to befall them.

Suddenly a soft glow enveloped them. It grew brighter, until they could
see their surroundings distinctly. They had reached the end of the
passage and before them was another huge door. This noiselessly swung
open before them, without the help of anyone, and through the doorway
they observed a big chamber, the walls of which were lined with plates
of pure gold, highly polished.

This room was also lighted, although they could discover no lamps, and
in the center of it was a great table at which sat an immense woman.
She was clad in silver robes embroidered with gay floral designs, and
wore over this splendid raiment a short apron of elaborate lace-work.
Such an apron was no protection, and was not in keeping with the
handsome gown, but the huge woman wore it, nevertheless. The table at
which she sat was spread with a white cloth and had golden dishes upon
it, so the travelers saw that they had surprised the Giantess while she
was eating her supper.

She had her back toward them and did not even turn around, but taking a
biscuit from a dish she began to butter it and said in a voice that was
big and deep but not especially unpleasant:

"Why don't you come in and allow the door to shut? You're causing a
draught, and I shall catch cold and sneeze. When I sneeze, I get cross,
and when I get cross I'm liable to do something wicked. Come in, you
foolish strangers; come in!"

Being thus urged, they entered the room and approached the table, until
they stood where they faced the great Giantess. She continued eating,
but smiled in a curious way as she looked at them. Woot noticed that
the door had closed silently after they had entered, and that didn't
please him at all.